Old Friends Aren't Always Good Friends
by cutie3239
Summary: When Katherine Thorn got a new mission file across her desk, she never expected that she'd have to work with a former employee, and a former boyfriend. Does Katherine have what it takes to deal with his idiocity? --Possibly only 1 chapter--
1. Chapter 1

It's customary to right a review of a mission after you get back, just so that your supervisors know what went down from your prospective. As being in the Force for almost 10 years now, I've only written two; my first one, and this one.

With the amount of technology that we have now, no one really needed to read the full story of the mission, just the facts. Ever since that day in New York, and the mission that took almost five months to complete, all my superiors have been on my ass to write down what happened. And here it is.

* * *

The letter came across my desk on July 20th, 2009. On top of the manila envelope stated my name, **Katherine Thorn**, and **IMPORTANT** **INFORMATION** ran across the envelope. Before I could even open the letter, I knew what it was going to be about. _It says I'm going into the field,_ I thought, slipping my finger through the top of the envelope and ripping the edge. Pulling out the papers, I saw the pictures of the people who would be working with me; Luther, Declan, Zhen, and an un-photographed member. _Must be someone new_, I thought to myself, not even bothering to read the name. I skimmed through the information given. Target: a drug dealer suspected to also be giving out diagrams on nuclear war-heads. Sounded like an easy mission at the time.

Packing up the papers, I placed them into my messenger-bag, covered my blonde hair with an old baseball cap, and left my office, heading towards the conference room to learn more from Bassel about the mission ahead. Wondering how much of a rookie the new guy would be, I barely noticed who was in the room until I heard "Hi, Blondie."

The voice was one from the past, one I haven't heard in years. I looked up and counted heads. Everyone was there, including the new guy. But the way the back of his head looked, the all to familiar smirk that could be barely seen, I knew all too well.

"What the hell is Hunt doing here?" I demanded. Ethan straightened his back and leaned across the table, a crooked smile upon his face.

The glare never left my eyes as Bassel explained that he has come back into action for this mission. "It better not be a problem," he said, "or I'll re-assign everyone off this mission faster than you can blink." The history between Hunt and me has never been a secret. Before he met his wife, Julia, Ethan and I had been a serious couple for about 2 years. Then, on a mission about 3 years ago, we were in a heated argument about something, and… well, you can say we ended on a very bad note.

"No," I said, the strain still in my voice and a glare still on my face. "It won't be an issue at all."

"Good. Now," Bassel said as he pulled out photos of the target, "Your mission, if you decide to choose it, and you have no choice, is to become close to Rodriguez, learn everything you can about him, then take him out, but **only** if he is dealing the nuclear weapons. We can't mess this up, got it?" Murmurs of agreement floated through the room, and, without any other words, Bassel left the room.

It was quiet for a moment, no one exactly sure what to say. Taking charge, I said, "Ok, we leave in four hours. Go and get your crap together. We'll meet back here." With that, everyone started walking off towards whatever destination they wanted, except for one person, who decided to follow me to my office.

"You look good," Ethan said from behind me. "Your eyes seem bluer. New contacts?"

"Apparently they're not doing such a good job, because I still can see you," I snapped, still facing forward. My office was only a few feet away, but Ethan stayed on my heels.

"Someone's touchy today," he smirked, coming around to stand in front of me. I wanted to slap the smile right off his face, the one I tried so hard to forget. Completely ignoring him, I walked around him and went straight into my office, closing the door in his face.

The room was completely quiet, which was good, since it gave me some time to relax. A packed suitcase sat next to my desk, always ready to go on a mission. This office was like my safe zone. No one bothered me while I was in here, and it was soundproof, so I couldn't hear anything from the outside world. Which was good since it kept Ethan at bay… Or until he forced his way in.

I shuffled a few papers around and placed them and my laptop into a bag. Then I walked over to the closet and picked up a small duffle bag that was always ready for a mission. Having everything, I picked up my laptop case and my duffle bag and opened the door.

To no surprise, Hunt was leaning against the adjacent wall. "I figured out what's different about you!" he exclaimed, taking my hat off my head and putting it on his. "You died your hair a lighter blonde. Looks good."

"You give that back or-"

"Or you'll break up with me? Oh wait! You already did that."

"But I wasn't the one who left the job to get married, now was I?" I asked, playing the disloyalty card. I could already tell from that moment that the mission was nowhere near going to be enjoyable.


	2. Chapter 2

I kept telling myself I would end up killing myself. The whole flight Ethan wanted to talk to me, even after the fact that I placed headphones on and turned the volume all the way up. It was almost impossible not to hear him.

And so, when the plane touched down, we behaved like good operatives and went in different directions, different cars, all leading toward the same safe-house. It wasn't anything special, just an apartment owned by the government at the taxpayers' expense. So it didn't have a plasma-screen TV or anything fun. Just a lot of computers.

Walking into the apartment, I placed my bags down next to the couch in the living room and walked down toward the bedrooms there were four bedrooms, so that meant someone was sleeping on the couch, and that someone was definitely not going to be me. There was one bathroom in the entire apartment, at the end of the hallway. All the other doors were open, except that one, and I don't know if it was the operative in me or the girl, but it just had to be open.

Being the first one to the apartment had its perks. I got to explore everything first, get my room first, and debug any little surprises. But nothing prepared me for what was in the bathroom.

"Hiya, Blondie," replied Ethan, bare-chested with just his jeans on. "Thought I heard you creeping around."

Regaining my startled composure, I demanded, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Well, I was about to take a shower," he said, gesturing into the bathroom. "Unless you had different plans-"

"Do what ever you want, Hunt," I replied, turning my back and walking down the hall to the kitchen. "As soon as this mission is over you can go back to playing 'Husband' with your little doctor wifey."

* * *

Everyone else showed up not too long after, and Declan lost the vote on who was sleeping on the couch. Photographs covered the floor of the target and his closest allies. Different diagrams on how we could infiltrate his trust passed around the room: Pose as an old classmate? Too simple. Build a trust? Takes too long. Impersonate someone? Too difficult.

"Someone can slip up way too easily," I sighed, rubbing my eyes. We'd been at this for hours and still, nothing.

"I think we're thinking this way too hard," I heard Ethan say from where he leaned against the wall, staring down at everyone who sat around the pictures.

"What do you mean?" Zhan asked, tossing a pile of pictures back with the group. "This was supposed to be an easy job, but this guy would background check his mother!"

"But we know someone who's gone so deep undercover that she barely exists outside of it."

Leaning forward, I looked at Ethan square in the eye, or as squarely as I could, and drew out a hard gaze. "And who is this operative?"

With a quick smile, he walked closer to me and brought his face inches from mine. "You."

* * *

**I'm so glad to see that there has actually been somewhat of a spark of interest in this story lately. Seriously, I was surprised with the sudden interest in this. Anway, still have no clue where this is going, but if I continue to see this being liked, I'll continue to write.**


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I kept repeating as I stared at myself in the mirror. Even though I was the team's leader, I was out-voted (stupid democracy) in thinking this as a bad plan. I lost 4-1, actually. And as I stood in front of the mirror, wearing a pair of skinny jeans, high-healed leather boots, a tight black tube-top, and my baseball hat. It was the last thing that I had that still resembled me in any shape and form. My comfort clothes flew out the window as the invasion of tight clothes came in. No way in hell was I going to lose my last hope of humanity without a fight.

"That's got to go, Blondie," Ethan said as he leaned into the room and pointed at my hat. "Not part of your cover." _Cover? What cover?_I thought to myself. The "cover" Ethan was referring to was that of a heiress of a large, black-market buying, gun family. Now, this family never existed, but according to the license issued to Juliette Vancom with my picture and all the off-shore bank accounts and small island properties issued to the name of Vancom, it was believable.

It wasn't a cover I really ever wanted to go back to. I spent almost two years creating this duel person that the lines between my real life and Juliette's were so different that, if they were to cross, it'd be beyond tragic. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Again," I sighed, throwing the hat on the bed and applying an extra layer of eyeliner. Already, Juliette's appearance of "noticeable" was taking over mine of "unnoticeable."

"This is the only cover that anyone I know has ever perfected to a T," Ethan commented as he walked over to the bed and picked up the hat. "And you are the second most talented operative out in the filed, next to me."

I turned and glared directly at Ethan, not wanting to deal with his crap. "Hunt, you shut your mouth before you lose some teeth!"

I tried to be angry. I tried to sound mean. But all Ethan do was smile and open the bedroom door wider. "See? Now you are Juliette Vancom."

With one last glance in the mirror, I walked out into the living room and picked up my leather jacket off the table. That was one thing I could keep. Respect, though, flew out the window when I placed that coat on. Everyone in the room stared at me with shock in there eyes and a gaping mouth. "What? Is something wrong?"

"Thorn," Declan started before he had to shake his head to clear his mind. "You look hot."

A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I shook my head. "Well, keep your mouth closed so you don't drool." I walked over to the rest of the group and looked down at the laptop that sat between them all. "What are we looking at?"

It was Zhen who answered. "Rodriquez will enter the Sapphire Lounge and sit at a booth at 8:00 for an hour, like he usually does. At 8:04, Hunt and myself will take a place at the bar. 8:05, Declan will enter and take a booth in the front. Luther will drop you off at 8:10, and Luther will run comms and watch the security tapes."

"Sounds like a start," I replied as I walked toward the door of the apartment.

"Don't you want to know what's going on next by time-scale, Thorn?" Zhen asked as I opened the door.

"This is how she works," Ethan answered for me before I had the chance. "Knows how everything starts and then works from there."

I smiled as I headed out the door, calling over my shoulder, "Makes the cover more flowing and causes me to act more naturally."

* * *

8 o'clock seemed to have come way to quickly. Sitting in the passenger seat of an expensive foreign car next to Luther was almost unbearable as we just drove around the California town. "Ten minutes," I sighed, tucking the comms unit deeper into my ear and securing the mic better on to my necklace's chain. The waiting time was always the most unnerving part for me. Sneaking into a high-security building, a breeze. Ask me to throw a kill-switch in a room filled with toxic fumes, easy. But turning myself into someone who I'm not and being able to convince someone else that? Scariest thing of my life.

"Will you stop freaking out?" Luther said, pulling me out of my trance. "You're going to cause panic."

I flashed Luther a smile as I watched the clock tick. "Everything will be good," I replied. "Hunt, are you getting into place?" The clock had just flashed 8:03.

"Why yes, Doll," I heard Ethan over the comms. "This is a good place and-" he continued in a quieter voice "-if you ask me that one more time, Blondie, I'll become the one who starts yelling all the time."

I had asked Ethan that same question five hundred times in about five minutes, and he had been somewhat tolerable. But part of the history between Hunt and myself left us being always intolerable of each other.

"Ok," heard Declan a few moments later. "I'm in place. Thorn, you're up." _Was it time already? Was it seriously already my turn?_I couldn't believe that 8:10 had just walked right up. I was no where near ready. This mission was going to go up a certain creek without a freaking paddle in no time flat and no amount of training and field experience I had could save me.

"Thorn!" Luther barked as we pulled up outside the Sapphire Lounge.

As my gaze flickered to Luther, the door to the side of the car opened and a valet stood outside, his hand reaching towards me. "Miss?" the man said, causing me to shift my gaze back to him.

Taking a deep breath, I looked over at Luther and smiled, "Pick me up at 10, Mr. Thorn," I smiled, Juliette's persona taking over. My hand gently took that of the valet as I let him help me out of the vehicle, and from that moment on, the mission was a go and all eyes were on my team, and me.


End file.
